


Calm Your Nerves

by ktbl



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Formalwear, Kinktober 2020, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26979295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktbl/pseuds/ktbl
Summary: Brig is valedictorian for her engineering college, and Hana makes a surprise visit.-Kinktober 2020, Day 13: Formal Wear
Relationships: Brigitte Lindholm/Hana "D.Va" Song
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	Calm Your Nerves

Brigitte paces in the hallway, boots thumping on the floor. She can hear the commotion outside, hundreds of voices chattering like birds, as the friends and family of the graduating engineers mill about. Down at the other end of the hallway, the engineers themselves - almost all of them as nervous as Brigitte herself feels - make last-minute adjustments to hats and robes. She has managed, despite her time traveling with Reinhardt, to earn top marks and the status of valedictorian for her class.

She’s fought thugs and gangsters, omnics endangering communities, even Talon operatives; she’d take all of them at once if it meant avoiding public speaking.Reinhardt had clapped her on the back with joy and she had staggered beneath the blow; her parents were adequately doting and proud. She’d called to share the news with Hana, and the response... Well, her long distance girlfriend had seemed oddly put out. Maybe she was just reserved, but she’d seemed... less than thrilled, and adding worry about Hana to her nervousness has left Brigitte less than confident when she needs to be. She is going to make a mess of things, she is sure of it.

Brigitte inhales deeply, feeling her shirt and suit under the robes stretch with the movement. She fills her lungs and counts to three, exhales with another three-count, and tries to settle the twisting in her stomach. Nothing is working. She rolls her shoulders and her neck, and then takes another measured inhale. There is a commotion at the end of the hall; raised voices and suddenly a flurry of phones lift, snapping photos of someone, something.

A young woman with long dark hair, dressed in a form-fitting red dress and heels, pushes her way through the crowd. Every eye is suddenly on her, and even Brigitte can’t help but look; as pretty as this woman is, she isn’t Hana, and guilt digs its claws into her stomach. If Hana knew she’d even _looked_ at another woman, if she’s already mad at her - Brigitte would be dead. She hasn’t seen her face, but this visitor has legs that look almost as good as Hana’s - and she _really_ looks good in that dress.

Brigitte’s breath leaves her like a sudden blow to the gut as she realizes this woman _is_ Hana.

Hana smiles at the other students, flashes Vs and finger-hearts, and beelines straight for Brigitte.

“Hana?! What are you doing here?!” The words fall unthinking from Brigitte’s lips, and Hana stops short.

“I thought I’d surprise you this time,” she says, pulling back as if slapped. Hana’s face goes pale and Brigitte feels even sicker. “Should I go?”

“No,” Brigitte says just as fast, stepping forward to Hana, reaching out to her. “I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all. I know you don’t get time off much - at all, really - and I didn’t... I didn’t think you’d even want to come out here. It’s just a graduation thing, anyway.”

“It’s my girlfriend’s graduation,” Hana replies stiffly, looking up at Brigitte. “Why wouldn’t I come? Can we... can we find a room? Talk for a minute?”

Brigitte manages not to wobble, those words like another blow, and she fumbles for a door handle not too far off. She steps inside, lets Hana follow, and closes the door while she fumbles for a light switch.

“Supply closet isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Hana says with a hint of a smile, “but I’ll take it.”

Brigitte steps back, bumping into a rack oftools. “Hana, I’m happy to see you, believe me. I’m just surprised. I didn’t think you... could make it, would want to come.”

“You know, for the valedictorian of a bunch of smart people, you’re pretty stupid sometimes.” Hana grins and steps closer to Brigitte. “It just caught me by surprise. I never went to university, remember. Pro gaming circuit and directly to MEKA. I was a little bit jealous... am, I guess? You managed to make this work while running around with Reinhardt.” She gestures with one hand, the other tugging on Brigitte’s robe.

“I’m sorry,” Brigitte apologizes, reaching for Hana. “I didn’t think you’d care, it’s all just... school things.”

“It’s important to my girlfriend, so it’s important to me,” Hana says sharply. “Brigitte, I didn’t come back here for this, right now. I know this kind of thing stresses you out and I came back to give you a sure-fire way to calm your nerves.”

“Please,” Brigitte says, waving a hand and almost knocking over a mop. “I’m a mess. How do you do these public speaking things? The sponsorships, the interviews?”

“I’m used to them by now, but the easiest thing is to find something to relax you.” Hana grins and she is heart-stopping in that dress, with that smile. Brigitte makes a mess of the perfect satin curtain that is Hana’s hair, grabbing her and holding her close before bringing her head down for a kiss.

It is everything Brigitte remembered, and better, because it’s Hana and it’s here (even if here is a shitty maintenance closet) and not a memory. Hana makes a happy sound, parting her lips and kissing Brigitte back with equal fervor, fingers clawing at the robes. Hana sounds like she’s in the middle of a major game, all noises and rapid movements and nothing particularly coherent. Brigitte just tries to drown herself in her girlfriend, let Hana drain all the tension out of her.

It works, for a little bit, and then they have to separate to catch their breaths. Brigitte’s heart pounds like a jackhammer, and she feels like she’s taken a blow from her own rocket flail as she tries to regain her composure. “You look good,” Brigitte says dumbly. “I mean - you’re… that looks really good on you. It’s the right shade of red and everything.”

Hana grins, and drops down on her knees in front of Brigitte.

“Hana, what are you doing?!”

“It should be pretty obvious,” Hana answers pertly, lifting up the hem of Brigitte’s robe. It reveals part of her suit, a blue so dark to almost be black, and cut to show off all her muscle and form. “Aww, you’re wearing pants. That’s going to make this hard, but not impossible.”

“Are you…” Brigitte can’t quite find the words, mind still reeling. It doesn’t help that she can see straight down Hana’s dress, the red bra trimmed in lace. And she knows Hana always, always matches. Brigitte’s nipples go hard at the thought of what her girlfriend will look like out of that dress, and she can feel warmth building in her core.

“Would be better if we had a table in here… Hang on. There’s a chair.” She points to one balanced, a little dusty from disuse, jammed in the back of the little space. Brigitte gets it down, a bit awkward in the close quarters, but the two of them manage, and in short order Brigitte’s nice trousers are looked at her ankles, along with her underwear, and Hana is moving in like a guided missile to her target. “Hana, I don’t have a lot of time-“

“Brigitte Lindholm, stop talking and start relaxing or I will drag this out and make you late. Valedictorian.” Hana glares up at her, dark eyes almost luminous. “Shut up and enjoy yourself.”

“Got it.” Brigitte grins down at Hana, who grins back up, and leans in between Brigitte’s legs.

Hana starts with a series of kisses up the insides of Brigitte’s thighs, her hands trailing up in their wake and then overtaking them. One finger keeps sliding upward, in between her labia, and Brigitte makes a soft hiss of pleasure. Much like everything else, Hana knows exactly what she’s doing, and she runs her fingertip around Brigitte’s nerve-lined entrance. Brigitte can’t help it; she jerks her hips forward in surprise, and the chair makes an uncomfortably creaky sound. Beneath her, there’s a humming vibration from Hana - laughter, muffled by her placement. Hana’s free hand curls around Brigitte’s calf, fingers splaying wise and digging in.

Brigitte feels every one of Hana’s finely manicured fingernails make little crescent divots. It gives her something to focus on while Hana effortlessly teases a finger in and out of her.

Hana’s mouth makes contact, tonguetip gliding across Brigitte’s cleft. She doesn’t try to hold back her moan, only muffling it against the back of her hand to soften the sound. Hana slides in a second finger, scissoring the two digits open against Brigitte’s inner walls, and she moans again with delight. Hana tugs Brigitte’s legs forward a bit, urging her to sit just on the edge of the chair; it makes another alarming noise as Brigitte edges forward, splaying her legs as wide open as her clothing allows.

Hana’s tongue and lips are busy, lapping and sucking, drawing skin into her mouth and tugging every so gently on it. Brigitte groans softly, throat tight, at her girlfriend’s ministrations. This is definitely a distraction from the speech she should be rehearsing; she bites down on her tongue to keep from crying out. It’s hard to think of anything aside from Hana’s tongue and how good it feels. Heat pools low in her body, bright sparks shooting through her to her fingertips and toes. She slumps down in the chair, her fingers weaving into the satiny cap of Hana’s hair.

Brigitte rolls her hips, rocking into Hana’s face, trying to get more friction, more pressure where she wants it. She knows she’s wet, and the sounds from Hana confirm it - Brigitte might feel guilty about how wet she is, if she didn’t feel so damn good. Pleasure keeps working its way through her body, joints going warm and loose. Hana’s tongue is busy, flicking back and forth over Brigitte’s clit and making her whimper. Brigitte wants to just bask in this, dissolve into a puddle, and every touch and lick and tap from Hana makes Brigitte’s brain short circuit from pleasure.

It doesn’t take much longer before Brigitte relinquishes the last of her control. Her body quivers as Hana seals her lips around Brigitte’s clit and sucks and flutters her tongue across the sensitive bud. There is one moment where Brigitte has thought - enough to realize what she’s doing, and where - before there is a sudden throbbing pulse that starts in her core and expands out. Hana makes a noise that Brigitte barely hears, subsumed by the pleasure, and when she opens her eyes a few moments later, slouched in the chair, Hana has shifted back, her face slick and smiling.

“There’s my Brigitte,” she murmurs, grinning and resting her head on Brigitte’s bare knee. “Feeling any better?”

“I don’t think I can word right.” Brigitte’s tongue is heavy and her voice is breathless. She reaches down and strokes Hana’s face with a finger, from the corner of one eye down her cheek to her jaw and chin, and back up again. “And that speech is totally gone. I’m going to stand up there and look stupid.”

“Should I do that again and see if you can remember it?”

“No!” Brigitte raises both hands. She can feel the smile cracking her face. “I’m sure it will come to me - I mean, I’ll remember it,” she says with a flush and a laugh. Hana laughs too, and stands up. It gives Brigitte a moment to admire her girlfriend again as she tugs at the short hem, adjusting everything. Brigitte grabs her waist and tugs Hana onto her lap, long enough to bury her face in the curve of her neck and breathe her in. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I am, too.” Hana wiggles on Brigitte’s lap, eliciting a squeak and a lower, throaty moan.

“You look really, really good in that dress-“ A pair of sharp knocks on the door interrupt her.

“Lindholm, stop your panic attack and get _out_ here, we’re about to line up,” calls one of her classmates. Hana stifles a laugh, and Brigitte hopes she doesn’t sound too embarrassed when she answers.

“Out in a couple. Just trying to calm my nerves, you know?”

Hana giggles again, and Brigitte drops her head and peppers Hana’s breasts, framed perfectly by red fabric, with kisses.

“Yeah,” her classmate says, and there’s a tone that says no one is fooled by this. Brigitte grins at Hana and they both manage not to giggle too loudly, and Hana slips off Brigitte’s lap. Quickly straightening out her clothes, Brigitte cups Hana’s face in her hands and kisses her again.

“I’ll meet you after, Reinhardt’s holding a seat for me.” Hana tugs at her dress once more. “I can’t wait to hear your speech.”

“Shit.” Brigitte sighs, and opens the door. “I really hate public speaking.”

“Don’t they say just imagine everyone in the audience naked?”

“Hana, imagining you naked is _not_ going to help the situation.” Brigitte rolls her eyes and opens the door.

“Worth a try!”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hattip to Bio over on the [MekaMechanic Discord](https://discord.gg/Nv4qzNP) for the idea!


End file.
